


All I Want to Do

by kayura_sanada



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Dom!Tony, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, PWP, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Very Very Slight S/M, definitely NSFW, sub!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: As Tony had once helped Steve with his nightmares, so Steve wanted to reciprocate. A sort-of sequel to All I've Got (Is Your Hand).





	

Steve planned it all months in advance.

First, he got Tony to spar with him. While Tony had always professed an interest in learning self-defense, the man had also been busy, and exhausted, and Steve hadn't thought he would be a good teacher, anyway. But now he had incentive, and for Tony's sake – and for more than his physical well-being, which, really, was a good enough reason to try – but for his emotional one, as well.

A few months before, Steve had dealt with crippling nightmares of the ice. Tony, in one night, had managed to change those dreams into something entirely different. Though he'd certainly been skeptical of it at first. And of course, his fear had been nearly palpable to begin with. Tony's pleasure had been what had seen him through. And they'd had several more nights like the first. Steve had even taken a try – an attempt that had left them both breathless as Tony used his own mouth to place the ice on Steve's body.

But Steve was not the only one with crippling nightmares of his past. The difference was that he was more likely to accept help if it was sincerely given.

So he started with what he read would be necessary. (And thank goodness Friday taught him how to erase his search history; it was humiliating enough reading it all sometimes. Humiliating on another level, too, because it made him make impromptu trips to the restroom.) And he got Tony started on learning how to properly choke people. He also taught him how to block, how to escape from chokeholds and free himself if his hands were tied. Tony was a quick learner, of course; while Steve spoke of how the move felt, Tony would reply back in velocity patterns and projected angles. The man could use math to figure out how much pressure to put on Steve's legs to trip him, how high to jump, and how hard, to launch himself onto Steve's taller frame and pull him back into a hold.

And if the two of them were sweaty and hot and panting and desperate at the end, then it was a bonus made all the sweeter for what he hoped to eventually do with Tony.

He took it a little further about a month ago, taking Tony to the hot tub and going down on him underwater once he got more comfortable. Even though he had a hot tub in his own home, Tony always left the use of it to the other Avengers – to Clint, who used it while playing handheld video games, and to Natasha, who soaked her muscles in it after a long mission, and to Steve, who used it to get warm on chilly nights when the ice got too thick in his veins.

Just getting Tony into the hot tub had been an experiment with patience. Tony had waved him off a number of times, made excuses, complained of too much work, altered the conversation to something else. Finally Steve just took Tony's hand and said, “Tony?”

And Tony took one look at him, made a wretched face that made Steve feel like an ass, and nodded. “Yeah. All right.”

They held on to each other as they stepped inside, but after about fifteen minutes of tense silence, Tony lightly ran his hands over the water and took a deep, shaky breath. And after another fifteen minutes, Steve had dared lay his hand on Tony's hip. To his surprise, Tony had responded easily, and they made love in the water, even though Steve had expected several nights before they could progress so far. He should have known Tony's gift for compartmentalizing his fears and pain to be something he could use to enjoy Steve's presence, even in a place that instinctively held such fear for him.

Though, after they'd finished – after Steve had specifically taken Tony into his mouth beneath the water, giving Tony a demonstration of how the super soldier serum had granted him a great ability to breathe underwater – and even had Tony calculate it. Tony counted with shaky breaths, counting up to almost two hundred seconds before Steve had to come up for air. Praise for his skills came more and more garbled as the evening wore on.

So Tony knew how to safely choke, how to tell when his opponent reached weakness, then unconsciousness, and he knew how long Steve could breathe underwater.

He had to disguise what he was doing until everything was ready, however. He hated keeping this sort of secret from Tony, but he also knew very well that if his lover knew what he was doing, he would freeze up. Or worse, he would think of it as an ultimatum, or even a competition. As if, because Steve had done what Tony had asked, Tony had to reciprocate. Which was the very last thing he ever wanted Tony to feel.

His last, and perhaps most important and difficult piece of the process, was the actual conversation. He had no idea how Tony ever managed to get him to agree. No wonder, looking at it from this perspective, the man had blurted out something as foolish as he had. How could he ever bring up the idea he had without sending Tony into a panic attack or somehow making him feel like he had to do as Steve suggested? He wanted no feelings of obligation from Tony – something that was nearly impossible in the best of circumstances.

Tony had come back from a meeting in Los Angeles only an hour ago. A shower and change, a good meal made by Steve while Tony had taken his shower, and Tony was finally starting to relax. Steve's lips thinned. He wouldn't be surprised if, once again, the sins of the world were passed on to his lover. And, as always, Tony took them upon himself. Steve had once done the same to him. Before Thanos. Before he'd finally chosen to see just who Tony was.

Steve cleaned up the dishes after they ate and led Tony out to the living room, their hands clasped. Tony smiled slightly and tilted his head. “Are you seducing me?”

Steve blushed. Yes, he sort of was. “Tony. I don't know how to – to ask this of you,” he said, and immediately wondered if he should have phrased it as a request. “I want you to know, first and foremost, that – and I can't stress this enough – if you feel like you don't want to, then I don't want to. Do you understand?”

Tony frowned. His brow furrowed. “All right,” he said slowly. When Steve sat, his hand still wrapped around Tony's, Tony sat crookedly, facing him, that expression still on his face.

Steve took a deep breath. He'd already decided it best to not bring up how Tony had helped him. That would only bring about Tony's sense of obligation, and was the one thing he wanted the most to avoid. So he started with something else. “I've... thought about this.” He blushed again, but sincerity always worked with Tony, so he went on, anyway. “Probably too much. But I don't want you doing it just because of that.”

“Uh, Steve? What the hell are you talking about?”

He took a deep breath. “When we... when we've gone into the hot tub.” He cleared his throat when Tony's eyes immediately dilated. “And I go underwater. I... sometimes, I want you to hold me there.”

If it weren't for his own experience with this very sort of issue, he might not have recognize the strange contortion Tony's face made just then. The eyes still hazy with lust, the widening of those same eyes as his words sunk in, The pull of a grimace, the flinch, the tightening of the shoulders. The whimper he couldn't quite strangle back in time. Steve heard the intake of one single, ragged breath before Tony stopped breathing altogether.

He kept his hand light on Tony's, knowing better than to pull back and make it seem like he might feel hurt or rejected. How many times had he thought through every moment of this conversation, afraid of how Tony would actually go through with it, hating every second and never getting over it? Making it worse because he hadn't understood Steve's motives, or because he'd pushed himself to do something he couldn't enjoy. “I know. I know it would be strange enough if it weren't – if it weren't what it was.” He didn't squeeze Tony's hand, either, knowing it would be seen as begging. “I know, and I don't want anything from you.”

“Except the drowning thing,” Tony said, and his voice was light. Thready.

“No,” Steve said. When he'd first looked into options to help Tony, he'd found himself drawn to the idea of this. This thing the Internet called breathplay. And he knew it wasn't because he secretly wanted to drown again. “No. I had a bad experience with water once, too, and it's nothing like that.” He winced when Tony shuddered at his words. “Sorry,” he said, making his voice soft once more. “What I want is you. You choosing for me. The – the power you would have over me.” And this time _he_ shuddered, for a very different reason. “When we're together, it's always taken for granted that, outside of your armor, I'm stronger than you. I want this to be – I want you to be stronger than me for once.”

Tony's throat clicked as he swallowed. His hand shook in Steve's. If anything, he looked worse than he had a few moments ago. Steve grimaced. “Steve.” Tony shook his head. “I can't. That's...” He took a sharp breath. It sounded like it hurt to take. “I can't.”

Steve nodded. “That's fine.”

“It's not. Hear me out.” Tony gripped Steve's hand. “I'm not – it's not – I...” He closed his eyes and tried again. “I never want to have power over you. Never. I, of all people, should never have that.”

Steve lifted his hand, still trapped within both of Tony's, and kissed the back of the man's palm. “Tony. You are the only person I would ever trust with it. Because of the reaction you're having right now.”He dared cup Tony's cheek. “You would never let yourself hurt me. You and I both know that. That's why the idea of you having power over me scares you so much. So how do you think I first felt, that night we first lay together? This.” He gripped Tony's hands tighter, until he knew he reached the edge of Tony's comfort. Tony's breath was still sharp, but there was something deeper to it. “This fear you feel is exactly how I felt. But it worked out. Because you trusted me, and because harming you would have been a living death for me.”

Tony stared at their entwined hands. His fingers clenched within Steve's own. Steve gave him the time to think silently, for himself. He told himself, for the millionth time, that this was Tony's choice, to make at Tony's pace. And the answer no didn't meant anything against Steve. It just meant Tony didn't trust himself, or his place in their relationship, yet. And he may never. It was just a part of who Tony was. He could have absolute faith in those around him, could find himself trusting another all over again, leaving himself blindsided by another's betrayal, and still never trust himself with anything. How often had the man counted his own failures while forgiving those made all around him? Or even taking on their failures as his own?

Perhaps, one day, they would be able to reach the point where Tony recognized himself a little better. Steve wouldn't be cruel enough to say he would wait; he loved Tony as he was, his myriad of flaws and all. And if Tony changed one day, well, it would be a new facet of the man to fall in love with.

Tony breathed through his nose. “All right.”

Steve jerked. He looked up at Tony with wide eyes. “What?”

There it was. Something he'd been afraid of. Tony's face hardened as he took on what he thought of as a responsibility. “All right.” He smiled. It wasn't Steve's smile, but instead one for the press. The 'successful billionaire' smile. “Let's try it.”

Steve gusted out a breath. Gently, he leaned forward and kissed Tony's forehead. “No,” he breathed, and slowly unfolded his hand from Tony's. “Never for the wrong reasons.”

Tony made some sound of protest as Steve stood, but he seemed frozen to his seat. Unable to move forward. Steve smiled. “I imagine you want to check on your lab before coming to bed. Just don't stay up all night, all right? You're likely tired from jet lag, and it'll only get worse if you don't rest.”

Tony's mouth flapped. He lifted his hands a bit, then dropped them again. His shoulders hunched.

“I love you,” Steve said, and bent for a kiss. Tony quickly gave it, almost desperate. Steve didn't deepen the kiss until that desperation faded into relief, and then he pulled Tony up into something that set them both aflame. He pulled away. “Actually, if you could just do a quick check and then hurry up, that wouldn't be half bad, either.”

Tony nearly stumbled to the floor in his haste. Steve laughed, took a good look at Tony's retreating ass, and made for their bed.

* * *

They kept training. They kept sleeping together. They even kept going to the hot tub, though there was a tension in Tony that hadn't been there before. One time, Tony hesitantly placed his hand on Steve's head when he went to suck Tony underwater. There was no pressure at all, yet just the feeling got Steve achingly hard. His fingers clenched so hard on Tony's thighs he feared bruises come the morning. Tony had gasped at it. No bruises had formed, but the areas where he'd pressed in had been slightly sensitive for a day or so afterward.

Over a month later, after a merging between Stark Industries and some sewage cleaning company, with whom Tony set up contracts to build affordable, environmentally safe options to the disposal systems, then after an arduous mission in the South Pacific, in which several large squid had been outfitted by an underwater city to attack the ships traveling above, Steve and Tony finally returned together to their rooms. Despite their exhaustion, their touches turned heated, even as they made their ways into the large bathtub. Tony pulled the curtain behind them, Friday already turning the showers to a temperature barely below scalding. Water pelted Steve's back as he let Tony lead him beneath the spray.

At first, he didn't even realize what was happening. He mouthed at Tony's ear, his neck, as Tony leaned his head back and breathed softly through his mouth. His hands trailed down the enginer's sides, feeling the dip and curve of muscles that had been hidden for too long beneath three-piece suits. No matter that Tony looked his most beautiful when dressed to the nines. Tony pushed him back a little more, just enough for him to dip his own head down and find Steve's nipples. Tony's hands were always covered with calluses and small cuts, rarely actually bandaged or cared for; tiny scars criss-crossed all over those long digits because of it. Yet they were always careful, precise, better even than most musicians in finding a perfect spot and touching it just right, coaxing the perfect reaction from him. And as always, Tony found that magic place on him, the perfect way of moving his nipple, putting just enough pressure on it as he pushed it up, to make Steve gasp. His dick, already half-hard, jumped.

Tony's tongue circled his other nipple, licking around the areola, leaving the bud completely untouched. Steve gasped, his fingers clenching and unclenching around Tony's upper arms before he remembered to give in return. He slid his fingers across Tony's abdomen, noting the fine stretch and pull of muscles and the line of his waist. Tony was always more one to nibble on snacks than eat healthily, but he'd been doing much better since Steve and Friday had worked on an automated schedule for him. When Tony was busy, Friday would heat the food in the microwave or stove so that, when Tony came up for air, he would come up to the smell of something fresh waiting for him, or a flashing notification of it waiting for him upstairs. It left the changes in Tony's body noticeable; no longer did Tony sometimes have a waist beginning to thin around the edges.

He let his hands trail down to Tony's hips, let his fingers trace the line of bone down to the edges of hair leading to his erection. And Tony was erect, almost fully so, the man responding, as always, to Steve's reactions just as easily as he might to his own pleasure. The water only barely hit Tony's upper body, leaving it glistening in the hazy residual spray. His hair sparkled with the light touch, still mostly dry. Steve's hair, on the other hand, was plastered to his neck and face, water running tiny rivulets down his brow to his cheeks, barely skipping his eyes. It dripped onto Tony as he leaned in, mostly protected from the spray by Steve's own body. He reached around and cupped Tony's ass as the man bent over Steve's chest, finally letting his tongue touch, very lightly, on the nub. Steve clenched his teeth and hissed.

Tony pushed lightly against him once more, and once more Steve moved back. This time the water crested over his head, splattering Tony's back and shoulders. At the same time, Tony took his nipple into his mouth and sucked. Steve jolted; Tony's mouth was hot, hotter almost than the spray of the water as it splashed over his face. He had to close his eyes as the water ran over them, hiss in a careful breath as it ran down the bridge of his nose and over his lips. Tony's hair got slowly pelted from the back; the loose bangs stuck to Steve's wet chest as he laved the hard stub of Steve's nipple with his tongue, never releasing it from the pressure of his mouth. Steve's hands stilled on those hips. This time, it was clear Tony wanted to be the one to give the pleasure.

Tony backed away finally, letting his mouth release Steve with an audible pop. He licked his lips. “Do you remember those words I talked to you about when we played with the ice?”

Steve frowned. Had Tony figured out Steve's game? Nevertheless, he nodded.

“Good. They still apply. Now turn around.”

Steve's brows furrowed, but he did as told. He wasn't positive what Tony could do in such a small space with Steve's back to him, but the man was a genius. Steve had learned to never underestimate that brain.

Yet still, somehow, he found himself freezing in shock when Tony wrapped one hand over his eyes and leaned his head back. He took the spray of the shower full-on.

His body lurched, nearly pulling Tony off his feet. It was an automatic reaction to the feeling of the water beating on him. It wasn't waterboarding; if he opened his mouth and forced himself, he could breathe just fine. But it _felt_ like he couldn't. It _felt_ like he was trapped beneath a stream of water, keeping him from breathing. His dick sprang to attention, even as everything in him swam with the knowledge of what was happening. Tony. Tony had found a way, an even better compromise than what Steve had searched for. It didn't even require the months of training and practice Steve had worked toward. Tony was doing this for him, without giving up something he couldn't healthily give.

“I love you,” Steve said. It felt a bit odd to say that when his lover was giving him the sensation of drowning, but there it was. He heard Tony hitch in a breath. His fingers shook slightly against Steve's eyelids.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and pulled himself flush against Steve's back. His free hand slid from Steve's chest down to his stomach, feeling the muscles dip and twitch as his body registered a vulnerability that didn't actually exist. And then those fingers curled around his dick, and he moaned. There was no way Tony wasn't aware of how outrageously hard he was. No way Tony didn't note the sudden stand to attention, the veins already bulging beneath the skin. Tony slid his thumb over one of those veins, making Steve jerk in his grasp once more. His hands clenched into fists in his efforts to keep still.

Tony kissed his back, licked along the edge of his shoulder. Despite knowing he could breathe just fine, Steve found himself gasping for air. The instinct to pull out from beneath the spray was nearly overwhelming. The force of it, mixed with the illusion of entrapment made by Tony's hand pulling his head directly into the water, only made the urge to move stronger. He groaned, the sound slighted by the water and the uncomfortable stretch of his neck.

There was no way to explain it. And when Tony started pumping him, only to move his hand from Steve's mouth to his hair and shove him down and away, toward the wall, freeing him from the feeling of vulnerability and pleasure both, he could do little more than breathe hard and shudder. It wasn't something he could explain to Tony – Tony, who constantly fought against the feeling of vulnerability, who never wanted to feel it again. There was a power in it, one given and one taken. There was trust, and a sense of urgency, almost of disbelief. Especially when his body reacted. As if, the closer he got to danger, the more alive he felt. One could say he was some closet adrenaline junkie, but in truth, he never sought thrills. Perhaps he just sought completion. Yes, he wanted this to help Tony, but somehow, despite everything, it really had become a bit too much about him. About losing the place where he ended and Tony began. And yes, about how shockingly good it felt to have the most essential part of him handed over to another, and to know he would not only be safe and protected, but given pleasure.

Tony did not touch him when he wasn't beneath the shower head. Only the hot water, pounding lightly at his back, slid across his skin. He shivered, knowing it was deliberate.

“Get under the spray,” Tony ordered. Steve bit his lip. It was the best Tony could do at the moment, to give Steve a clear chance to say no, to back away and leave, without having Tony give up the position of power that was, in essence, creating the setting Steve hadn't even known he'd wanted. His dick throbbed against the cool wall. When he'd asked for this, he hadn't even known what he was doing. Tony had.

Steve threw his shoulders back. Lifted his chin. And did as told.

Despite the nearly cold way Tony had ordered him, his hand was gentle as he once more covered Steve's eyes, this time covering his nose, as well, and tilted his head back. The reaction of his body was immediate, and Tony wasted no time wrapping his hand around Steve's member again. This time when Tony slid his palm along Steve's length, he did so slowly, letting each finger rise and fall along the ridges of each small vein, until finally squeezing down on them with his ring finger. Steve gasped and shuddered, the harsh intake of air bringing water into his mouth. Not enough, not nearly enough at once to make him so much as cough or choke, but enough to make his body think otherwise. He found his hands reaching up as if to tear off Tony's own and forced them back down.

Tony played with the tip, rubbing his thumb over the head. Already Steve could feel the wetness of his pre-cum dribbling out to mix with the shower water. Tony slid his finger into that sticky residue and slid it down Steve's dick. He whimpered. It took everything in him to not jerk his hips into Tony's hold. He could hardly breathe enough as it was, let alone with how hot he suddenly felt. It was amazing the water on his body hadn't turned to steam.

Tony's hand slid back down to his base, squeezing harshly at it a few times before lightly caressing the top once more. The blood surged through after the miniature beating, leaving him weak-kneed at the sensitive feel of those scar-tipped hands running over him. He expelled a gust of breath, gulped it back in. Water ran into his mouth and back out, not making it past the blockade of his throat. He felt it run down either side of his face, then his neck. Felt Tony use his hand on Steve's face to lever himself up and kiss the run of water as he pumped, very slowly, around Steve's shaft. A reminder that Tony was not truly forcing him. A reminder that he could stop this, if he chose.

Oh, no. He did not want this to end.

He couldn't believe it, but already he was reaching the end of his rope. Tony went slowly, too slowly for Steve to be able to come. But he did grit his teeth and finally start trying to force the issue, his hands clenched so tightly he couldn't even feel his nails biting into his skin anymore. Tony bent Steve down and away once more, his hand leaving Steve's dick entirely. He snarled and whimpered at the same time.

“Don't rush me,” Tony ordered. After a short moment, during which Steve kept his head away, continuing the facade that Tony was in a position of strength against him, he added, “if you push it, you really will choke, Steve.”

There was a tremble of fear in that voice. It made Steve recall just what all of this was supposed to be for. He did look back this time, to see Tony's face. He was glad to see the bright blush of rose on those cheeks, to see the slightly hard breaths the man took as he struggled for control over himself. So despite the nightmares and the fear of messing up, Tony couldn't help but get turned on by Steve's desire. Steve smiled and reached out a hand. Immediately, Tony took it. “I'll try to be careful,” he said. Tony's gaze slid down to Steve's erection. A single brow raised as he saw just how engorged it was.

“It looks like you might be a bit gone for that,” Tony said.

Steve chuckled. “Maybe.”

Tony nodded, squeezed Steve's hand, and backed away. “Get back under.”

Steve tilted his head. “Make me.”

Tony blinked. Hesitated. He looked Steve in the eyes, read the expression on his face. Then he reached out and slapped Steve's dick. He jumped and yelped, nearly braining himself on the shower head.

“Get under,” he ordered. And with a smile, Steve did.

The pain radiating up from his cock was shocking, especially with him as hard as he was. As soon as he was back under the water, however, the pain dimmed, as if his body stopped caring about that when it had such greater concerns there before it. And then Tony pumped him again, full on, and his full body jerked enough to nearly yank him away. He gargled out a strange noise, alien even to him. Tony passed the hand on his face over his mouth and throat, checking for – for something. He must have passed the test, because Tony didn't pull him out or away, and he didn't stop. That hand kept moving, squeezing beneath the head and tickling lightly at the tip, once more coaxing pleasure back into him. At first the white spot of completion was just some far off feeling, a focal point of pleasure in the midst of struggle and near-incoherence. And then, far too suddenly, it became more.

He knew it wasn't just his dick. Every drop of water felt almost like a pinprick against his flesh, tickling him as it trailed down his skin and even upon his erection. His hair annoyed him with its heaviness, the bright locks clinging to his forehead and neck, the presence heavy, as if a part of his mind thought it was responsible for his difficulty breathing. Even his back seemed sensitive to touch now; he could feel every line of Tony's skin behind him, the firm press of his chest and stomach, the hard pricks of his nipples as they rubbed over his shoulder blades. The long, hot length of his dick as it slid against the bottom of Steve's waist, right where his ass started to form. Which meant Tony was likely standing on his tip-toes. He was likely also using Steve to help himself balance. All of this, Steve could feel. But it didn't change the fact that every tiny bit of pressure upon his dick felt like a spark of fire. It didn't change how, when Tony's pinky slid lightly against one of his balls, it felt like the man had lit a torch inside him. His balls tightened up so quickly it left him momentarily light-headed. Or perhaps that was because he was still gasping for breath.

Tony didn't waste time. He felt the stiff tautness in Steve's frame and hurried his hand's movements. Steve made some feral sound in his throat, gargling what small amount of water had remained in his mouth, as Tony pumped him quickly, turning what had been almost tortuously slow into a flash flood of feeling. Steve couldn't help but writhe slightly, his entire body heating into a volcano. He gritted his teeth, only to have to open his mouth for more air, spitting out the water and gulping deep, as his body rebelled against the pressure of the shower's spray. Tony's hand didn't slow, just kept pounding up and down around him. He reached back, barely grabbing Tony's hip, and curled his back as much as he could. His mouth fully faced the water now, and he had to hold his breath or drown.

It was the final straw, as he gave up even the illusion of not breathing for reality, and stiffened as Tony kept pumping him – trusting Steve to know his own limits – and the rush of blood pounded through him. With a final grunt he came, Tony's name on his lips as his body convulsed. The world seemed to explode inside him, its edges almost sharp in its heat and light. Tony immediately pulled Steve back, away from the water. Steve let himself be led until his face no longer sat beneath the water, and then he let Tony gently coax the rest of his orgasm out of him. He spit the water out of his mouth once more and turned to capture Tony's lips with his.

“Give me two minutes,” Steve said, “and I will give that back to you tenfold.”

Tony's breath gushed into his mouth. The man curled into Steve's body, nearly giving up all of his weight. “Feel free,” he said. Steve caught the tinge of worry in Tony's voice and pulled away, just slightly.

“I love you. Thank you. That was – it was so much more than I had even imagined.”

Tony seemed surprised when he grinned. “Well,” he said, a bit nonplussed. “That's good, then.”

“Tony.” He nuzzled his lover's nose. “It was _great_.”

And Tony laughed. They didn't bother actually completing their shower before turning off the water and toweling off. Hell, they hardly made it to the bed.

* * *

They still practiced sparring together. Tony was getting better and better, and Steve sometimes sparred with him just for fun rather than to teach a lesson. And they both sometimes spent time in the hot tub, sometimes just speaking together, or reading books side-by-side. And sometimes, they had sex in the warm water.

At night, Steve would catch Tony, sometimes, after he'd woken from a nightmare, giving Steve a penetrating stare. For Tony, the dreams hadn't gone away. Steve might have thought that a failure, if not for that stare. It wasn't one of fear, but instead one of deep thought, as if placing his concentration on a new piece of technology.

It was about three weeks later that Steve worked up the courage to ask Tony what that look meant.

“I think,” Tony said, his voice very, very low, “I might want to try – I might try what you did.”

Steve blinked, for a time not quite understanding. And then, suddenly, he did. He gasped. “You want me to drown you?”

Tony flinched and winced, and Steve wished he could take the words back. But he couldn't, and Tony recovered too quickly for Steve to properly apologize. “No,” the man said. “Not... that. But.” He tilted his head. “When I held you under that spray, you weren't afraid. Your body was, of course, but you weren't. I'd thought, at first, that it was because it was an illusion. Because you had the strength to escape me at any time. But it wasn't.”

Steve shook his head, even though Tony didn't need him to say it. “No. It wasn't.”

“No.” Tony skimmed his fingers through Steve's hair. The man always seemed enamored by it. That callused hand rested on Steve's cheek. “It was because you didn't fear me. Because you knew, if you'd shown any signs of struggle, that I would let you go. In an instant.” Steve nodded. “I think... I think, if I couldn't breathe, that I would still trust you to breathe for me.”

Steve wrapped his palm over Tony's. “Always,” he swore. And Tony smiled.

Perhaps he hadn't gotten rid of Tony's demons. Not everything could be solved with sex. (Hardly anything, Tony would note.) But if the only thing Steve had managed to accomplish had been to give Tony strength, to let the billionaire philanthropist genius know Steve was there for him, then it was more than enough. And if that was what Tony thought about when he woke up from those nightmares, instead of the memories of abuse and helplessness, then perhaps his hope had been fulfilled, after all.

 


End file.
